


all the words i never said

by izukillme



Series: forged by the storm within [3]
Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Book 02: Words of Radiance, Book 02: Words of Radiance Spoilers, Canon Autistic Character, Canon Epileptic Character, Epilepsy, Gen, Mild Epileptic Fit, Not Canon Compliant, dark!Renarin, or if autism is, pls dont read if epilepsy is a trigger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22830694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izukillme/pseuds/izukillme
Summary: Renarin meets a strange spren. One that can talk.
Relationships: Glys (Stormlight Archive) & Renarin Kholin
Series: forged by the storm within [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641259
Comments: 12
Kudos: 8





	all the words i never said

**Author's Note:**

> My take on how Glys might have motivated fbtsw!Renarin to bond with him.  
> Warnings: Mild epileptic fit, mentions of autism. If these are triggers, PLEASE PRESS THE BACK BUTTON. Your mental wellbeing is more important than a fic!

_Come!_

Renarin looks blankly at the red, crystal-shaped spren that hovers in the air, giggling brightly as it dips down towards him. He gives it his coldest stare, the one that has frightened about three-fourths of the Alethi court away from him and his family, and inquires, soft and toneless, “What are you?”

 _That’s for me to know and you to find out!_ chirps the spren, dive-bombing Renarin, who nearly loses his composure as it knocks his glasses off his face. He scrambles for them, fumbling about the cold stone floor with unusual panic.

Renarin does not enjoy being unable to see. It makes him feel out of control - and God knows Renarin Kholin _despises_ being out of control. Control is the very essence of who he has become, after all. Controlling himself, controlling the world around him; he sees things with a cold clarity that most would be afraid to. Everything has always been simple and clean to Renarin, and that is the way it will always remain. Some things he doesn’t understand, like the politics they play in court. Who wants a throne when it is far more lucrative to control what is _on_ that throne already? 

He used to think that the way he processed life was a weakness. But in true Alethi fashion, he has made it a strength. Sometimes Renarin thinks that his father’s blood might run deep in him, too, after all. 

Squinting, he finally makes out the glimmering gold outline of his glasses on the floor and grabs for them, slipping on the frames and frowning when he realises they’re scuffed. He raises his uniform and cleans them off with quick motions, putting them back on immediately.

The spren has disappeared into thin air. Renarin looks around furtively for the creature, but cannot find it, even with his now-clear vision. 

He rises and dusts off his clothes with the same forcefulness that he dusts these thoughts from his brain, striding to his rooms with purpose and intent. There’s work to be done, and he is the only one who has the guts to do it. 

* * *

A week later, Renarin is taking a walk through the back-roads of Dalinar’s warcamp, where no one can see him, when he feels a mild bout of his sickness coming on. It’s nothing he can’t handle if he just finds a chair to sit in, but he won’t reach his room in time and he would rather not have a fit in the middle of the main road. Better to get it over with here, where no one will think to look for him.

Sighing, Renarin slumps against a dirty stone wall, mind wandering to Bridge Four. The men of the crew are kind - too kind to a person like him, who has grown up pampered and cosseted. Oh, the old him, the Renarin who was gentle, anxious and unassuming, rears up around them, as does the eagerness to please; he is practically a helpless lamb in front of Captain Kaladin’s mother-bear instincts. The tall soldier seems to think he has adopted Renarin, and Renarin cannot help but give in to it - it’s as if something inside him just desperately _wants_ to be accepted by these men, all cracked around the edges and yet so whole. As if something in him wants to be an innocent boy again.

Renarin’s heart aches suddenly; for what, he does not know. The image of his mother, sunny-haired with an equally happy smile, rises in his mind, and suddenly tears are springing to his eyes.

The rational part of his brain reasons, _This is what always happens_. And it does; the mild fits bring flashes of unexplainable emotion.

Renarin hates them the most for it.

He can be physically weak. He can shake and shiver all he likes, he doesn’t care for it - Alethkar’s scheming court already knows the extent that Renarin Kholin will go to. Not just for Dalinar and Adolin; that furiously protective storm has stretched to Elhokar, Navani, Gavinor and Jasnah, and to Bridge Four. Renarin knows how to play the courts and he knows how to play them well.

It is the emotional side of himself that he hates. Renarin can lock his heart behind a wall, but that wall comes down almost effortlessly before these fits. They expose a side of him that is to be shown only to his near and dear ones - and that will not do. Not in a court of ravenous sharks like the Alethi. 

Renarin allows the hot tears to gather in his eyes, allows them to spill over his eyelids and flow down his cheeks like rivers. He’s learned from experience that letting himself cry and wiping the tears later leaves less marks than pawing at them does. 

_I can stop it,_ chirps a cheerful voice next to his ear. Renarin starts, the wave of emotion abating slightly in the face of surprise. 

“You can?” 

_Yes. I can help you, Prince Renarin Kholin._

“How do you know my name?” 

_I don’t know_ . _I know a lot of things, but I don’t know how I know them. I just do._

“How do I know you aren’t lying?”

_Because I am of Truth. And I can make you of Truth, too. I can bring Truth to your body - stop those convulsions that have you in such a tizzy!_

“Can you really?” Renarin asks in a sudden surge of weakness. To be rid of these fits…

_I can fix your eyes, too. Let me help you, Renarin. All you need to do is find your words._

“My words?”

_Find them. Within your heart, Renarin!_

Within his heart. Within his heart.

Renarin searches furiously, tearing down the walls he’s built to protect himself in his frenzy. 

_Within my heart._

The image of his family, years past, comes to his mind; Evi with her arm around Adolin, Dalinar next to her, grinning widely as he holds Renarin. Gavilar and Navani, together with Jasnah and Elhokar. All smiling, boundless joy in their expressions.

 _That is what is within my heart._

The Words that will change his life pass his lips as if they have been waiting in his mouth for the longest time.

_I’m Glys! Pleased to meet you._

Renarin inhales. The infused sphere on the wall goes dun, and with faint alarm he looks at his hands to see they’re glowing gently with the unmistakable wisps of Stormlight. Suddenly he feels… invincible.

He looks at the small, crystalline red spren and smiles.

“Renarin. And likewise, Glys.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment if you enjoyed it! <3


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